


Escape

by stilesshoechlin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Dad, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Car rides, Eventual Smut, M/M, Protective Derek, Sad Stiles, au police derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilesshoechlin/pseuds/stilesshoechlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began with a little car ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is just the first chapter. i will try to update and add a few chapters as soon as i am able. this is technically my first time writing something like this so be gentle on the comments. thank you very much and hopefully enjoy this au. :)

Stiles is nine years old when his entire life changed.

Everything was normal and comfortable. Stiles lived happily with his mother, Claudia, and his father, John. He went to school and was eager to learn. He was always smiling and joyful. He had friends and played sports.

But after Claudia's death, Stile's dad hadn't been himself. He constantly left the house with no explanation and didn't come back until late in the evening. Stiles usually heard him stumbling up the stairs, murmuring various curse words before walking into his room and shutting the door. He did this almost every night. Stiles tried to stay out of his way because he knew what would happen if he ever tried to confront him about it.

Even when Stiles did give his dad space, John always figured out a way to start a fight. It would normally be over inconsiquential things but his dad would blow it up.

These fights typically ended in John aiming the nearest empty bottle at Stiles and throwing it as hard as he physically could.

Defensless Stiles would simply walk, or limp depending on what damage has been done that particular night, and go to his room and sit there on his bed.

At the beginning of all the abuse, Stiles would cry almost every night. But, this has become almost a part of his routine. Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Get in a fight with his dad. Go to bed. Now after his beating, he just thinks and reminces at what could have been if his mother was around.

-

Stiles is now eighteen years old. His dad is even worse than before. By this time he easily figured out that his dad evolved into an alcholic. Stiles is no longer smiling, he now has a neutral look plastered onto his face that nobody can seem to change. Stiles has lost most of his friends but still plays lacrosse as an excuse for all the bruises and cuts scattered across his body. As for school, he is not living up to his pontential anymore and all of his teachers have all almost completely given up on him.

Now whenever Stiles and his dad would have a fight he would get on his bike and ride away. He eventually found a spot to stay most of his time and that was the park on the other side of town. He enjoyed sitting by himself on a bench and just thinking. Anywhere where was better than his house.

Stiles realized that even though he was techinically running away from his problems, it made him feel better not being in his dad's sight anymore.

-

Stiles gets up from the couch when he sees his dad storming through the door with a whiskey bottle in his left hand and his right hand pointing at him.

"It's you. It's all you," he started still pointing at Stiles,"Ya know everyday I saw her lying in that hospital slowly dying. I thought how the hell am I going to raise this stupid kid on my own. This hyperactive little bastard that keeps ruining my life!"

"But Dad-," Stiles stammered staring at his intoxicated father.

"No! It's all you. It's you Stiles," John spat out, "You killed your mother you hear me? You killed her... and now your killin' me" . When finished John lifted back his arm and threw the bottle at him.

Stiles ducked but he was too late. A few shards of glass were clearly piercing his cheek and a few scraped his neck and collarbone. He raised his hand to his face and took out the little pieces of glass. He looked down at his bloody hands and stared.

Stiles slowly rose up and ran out the door, adrenaline pumping. He ran and picked up his bike and started to ride. He just needed to get out of there. When he turned around he saw his dad had walked out onto the porch.

"Yeah that's right! Run away like the bitch you are! " John slurred.

Stiles kept pedaling and pedaling until he couldnt see his father anymore.

He soon made it to his entrance to the park and halted abruptly. He was heaving and his hands were still soaked with fresh blood. He walked over to a water fountain and gathered some water in his hands and rubbed them together.

When he was all cleaned he got back on his bike and rode down the trail to where the benches and playset were placed when suddenly he saw a car coming by.

He tries to dim the light with his hand but it was no use. The car slowly pulled up to beside him when he realized it was a cop car.

 _Shit._ he thought.

The man rolled down his window and looked at him a bit before getting out of his car.

"Any reason why you are here this late?' the officer asked with a slight smirk.

"Home is not exactly the ideal place for me right now." Stiles stated with a pout.

The officer sardonically nodded and began to ask more questions. Even though this guy was probably 4-5 years older than Stiles, he thought he was pretty hot. But the guy is practically questioning him right now so why should he think about something as stupid as that.

"Hey, it's also nearly 30 degrees out and dropping and you are just wearing a sweatshirt. Are you sure you want to bike back home?" he asked.

"What else would I do?" Stiles replied easily confused.

"Just ride with me. We can chat a bit more about yourself and why you're _really_ roaming the park at 3:00 am." the officer almost said with a chuckle.

Stiles just shrugged amd accepted his offer.

"But first..." the cop stated and went to pat down Stiles.

"Cmon man. I'm not one of _those_ kids. You're not going to find a pound of cocaine taped to my thigh and a few blunts in my sock..." Stiles trailed off.

The beautiful officer who's name Stiles still dont know, openly laughed this time.

"You're clean," the cop said as went around to the driver's door.

"Obviously," Stiles murmured under his breath, rolling his eyes.

The officer unlocked the trunk of the car and gestured for Stiles to put the bike in.

Stiles picked up the bike and placed it in the trunk and walked to the passenger's side and hopped in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." the officer started.

"What?" Stiles stated surprised.

"Why are you in the front?" he asked.

"Well I am not a fugitive am I?" Stiles said with a smirk.

"Whatever. I'm only doing this anyways so you didnt have to bike in the cold and so you could patch up those cuts and scrapes. They're pretty bad." he stated, wincing a bit.

"Wait how'd ya notice?" Stiles said, concerned as he brought his hands up to his face attempting to cover the wounds.

"Just because it's dark out it doesn't hide the blood clearly dripping down your face," he said starting the car. "By the way I'm officer Hale but you can just call me Derek." he said as he passed Stiles a napkin to help clean up his face a bit better.

"Thanks and um I'm Stiles."

"Nice. Now, how about you tell me how you got all those scrapes in the first place." Derek stated eyes set on the road but mind focused on Stiles.

"I fell off my porch and some of the other stuff is from lacrosse." Stiles lied, subtly scratching the back of his head.

Derek nodded. It felt like he knew Stiles was lying though, which sucks. He hasn't told anybody about his dad and he doesn't plan on revealing his biggest secret to some extremely handsome police officer who he just met.

They drove for a bit longer, not really talking, but it was good for Stiles. He was relaxing (for once) in the passenger's seat, simply glad that he's with someone other than his dad, even if it is a total stranger.

"Hey, Stiles, it's great driving you around and all," Derek proclaimed with a hint of sarcasm, "but it's reaching 4:00 am and you should probably be heading to bed."

"Yeah, your right." Stiles lied. Again.

He gave him directions towards his hell-hole of a house and as they got closer Stiles just wanted to drive around forever. He doesn't want to return to his fucking dad. But, then again, Derek probably has a life of his own and that doesn't involve constantly driving around and entertaining a troubled kid he just met nearly an hour ago.

When they arrived, Stiles heart slowly sank. He forced himself to get out of the car and proceed to the trunk where his bike sat. Once he grabbed his bike and set it on the concrete, he looked up and saw Derek walking towards him with a few band-aids in his hand.

"I grabbed these from this first-aid kit. Thought they might come in handy for ya know all that." Derek said as he motioned nonsenically at Stiles' face with his free hand.

"Thanks Derek. You didn't have to, I'd be alright regardless." Stiles said as he took the band-aids from Derek's hand.

"Eh, it's no big deal." Derek replied with a kind smile. Stiles began to fidget with the band-aids thinking about a normal, definitely not idiotic reply.

"Maybe I'll see ya around again." Stiles stammered, instantly regretting it once the words fell out of his blabbering mouth.

Derek nods and laughs gently at the ground.

"Yeah," Derek chuckled,"I just hope I don't see you wandering around at 3am again."

"No promises," Stiles replied.

As Derek was opening the car door he stopped and looked back at Stiles for a moment.

"Ya know..." Derek trailed off,"Everything's gonna be alright, Stiles."

Stiles could only manage to nod at the statement before Derek was already starting his engine and beginning to leave.  

Stiles stood on the curb until he couldn't see the car anymore. Then, he turned on his heel and made his way up and into his house, slightly wishing that Derek would turn around and come back and they could just keep driving and driving away from all the negativity.

But, he soon came to the realization that Derek was just a kind police officer and that Stiles has to continue living in a world of hurt beside his barbaric father.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the fact that Derek had left, he never exactly left Stiles' mind. 

Whenever Stiles would need someone, although he wouldn't have him there physically, he would think about Derek's kind words that stuck in his mind ever since that night. 

 _ Everything's gonna be alright,  _ he'd think when he was experiencing any sort of pain. Specifically, when his father would beat him, was when he'd especially resort to Derek's words.    


* * *

 

As the beatings grew worse and more alcohol was being consumed, Stiles found himself thinking about Derek a lot more along with more bruises and cuts scattered all over his body. What came along with the escalated amount of abuse was the fact that Stiles had completely gotten tired of school and virtually everyone in it. Although most days of school completely sucked, one particular day wasn't exactly the ideal afternoon for anybody. It ultimately resulted in Stiles sitting in one of the chairs at the police station with bruised knuckles and a bloody nose. 

"Young man, you are aware we are going to have to call your father and inform him about what you and Mr.Whittemore did to each other today," the sherriff stated. 

"No, no, no," Stiles started and practically jumped out of his chair towards the sherriff, "Please. Don't. We can do this another way."

Derek was chatting to another officer about how poorly the Mets were playing last Saturday when he was distracted by the commotion near the entrance, which was Stiles and the sheriff. He immediately ditched the conversation and began approaching them. 

"I'm afraid it's protocol. We're going to have you're father come do-" the sheriff was interrupted by Derek stating how he could take care of Stiles instead.

"Sheriff, I believe Officer Martin needs you anyways. It's okay, I will take care of this and sort everything out," He gently stated with a kind smile. 

"Well, I appreciate this very much Officer Hale," the sheriff patted Derek on the back and went off to find Officer Martin. 

Derek immediately turned his attention to Stiles after the sheriff was gone and was even more worried once he saw bloody dripping from his nose onto his khakis. 

Stiles just sat back down in his chair with his head down, looking at his hands which still had fresh blood from Jackson's nose on them. Derek bent down so his eyes met with Stiles'. He glanced up at Stiles with a worried look in his eyes.

"How did this happen," Derek said, breaking the mini staring contest him and Stiles were having about a second ago.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders and picked at the little bit of dry blood that layed just beneath his fingernail. Derek just looked at him again and then he cracked.

"Fine. It was lunch. Jackson Whittemore made a joke about my mom. I punched him in the nose. He punched back. Here I am," Stiles finally replied. 

"What happened to your mom?" Derek asked concerningly.

Stiles drew nonsencial lines on his palm with his thumb, clearly showing signs of nerves. 

"She uh... she died when I was younger... suffered from dementia..." Stiles trailed off.

Derek looked away obviously feeling pain from what he had said.

"My mom uh... also passed when I was younger. It's not easy so I understand how it feels," Derek replied sincerely.

The dead air between them carried on for a few moments before Derek let out a sigh and patted his knees as he stood up from his crouched positon. 

"Let's go," Derek said as he clapped his hands looking down at Stiles who was very confused.

"C'mon," Derek proceeded, "I'm giving you a ride. I don't know if you notice but I'm trying to help you out here," he ended with a slight smirk.

Stiles, still clearly bewildered, hesitantly got up from his chair and followed Derek. They approached Derek's car and got in. Derek started the engine and they began to drive.

"But Derek," Stiles stammered,"what about my charges... and my dad? What are you going to do?"

"I'll simply tell the sheriff I had long chat with you and your father at your house regarding what had happened at school and that you promised you won't act out again. That is, only if you promise me now that you'll stay out of trouble," Derek proudly proclaimed.

"So if I just promise you I won't punch another douchebag in the face, you're going to let me go? No questions asked?" Stiles asked. 

"Simple as that," Derek replied.

Stiles couldn't turn down a deal such as that one. Everything would be okay right? Just as Derek had said, just as long Stiles' dad doesnt find out about what happened... ever. Stiles promised to Derek that he'd try his best to stay out of trouble and before he knew it, they arrived at his house. Stiles opened his door and looked back a Derek.

"Thanks for helping me out," Stiles confessed.

"It's no problem," Derek replied waving his hand nonsensically in the air, "Just remember what you promised me," he pointed at Stiles playfully.

Stiles nodded and laughed. He then proceeded to open the car door and go into his house. Once he reached the front door, he caressed his hand around the door knob and turned around. Derek's car was still there. Even though the window was down, he could faintly see Derek waving. Stiles waved back and chuckled a bit to himself before opening the door and walking inside.

Relieved, Stiles realized his dad wasn't home. He decided to go upstairs and take a shower in attempt to wash off all of the now completely dried blood. Stiles went up the stairs to the bathroom and turned the shower on. He then went to the laundry room and stripped off all of his blood ridden clothes. He tossed them in the washing machine and turned the knob to 'heavy cycle'. After the clothes were taken care of, he continued to the bathroom and got in the shower. He gently started to wash the blood off of his hands and face. Afterwards, Stiles slowly massaged shampoo into his head and began to think about _Derek._ He didn't even mean to but something about Derek just made the idea of him creep to the front his mind.

Before he could stop it, he was touching his dick, still thinking about Derek. Just the way Derek believed in Stiles was enough for Stiles to become attracted to him. Not to mention the fact that he could probably pass a fucking Calvin Klein model, simply threw Stiles over the roof. Derek's perfectly groomed scruff and his bright, impeccable green eyes are just a modicum amount of characteristics Derek managed to obtain. At this point, Stiles was pumping his dick at a fast pace with his right hand and his left hand against one of the shower walls. He eventually came with an audible moan and rested his head against the same shower wall his left hand was.

He stood there for a moment before turning the shower off and stepping out. He grabbed his towel and dried off a bit, then proceeded to his room to get dressed. Stiles got on a pair of loose sweats and an old Ramones shirt. He layed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Stiles didn't have any bit of energy to go to school tomorrow, to deal with his dad, or simply do anything. Frankly, Stiles wished he could escape and leave town, and school, and his dad. But what came along with leaving, he would be leaving Derek and breaking his promise which he made nearly a half an hour ago.

It seemed extremely stupid to be caring so much about a man that Stiles has only had two conversations with but Derek seemed  _different._ He had to stay true to his word because Derek is truly the only person who has faith in Stiles at the moment. Stiles realized that he truly needs Derek.

Stiles  _needs_ Derek.  


End file.
